jacket, slipping his arms into the sleeves as he walked toward the front door. “I’ll give you two days, then I have to have my answer.”
“Two days? But Miguel’s gone,” she protested. “I can’t—”
“What do you mean ‘gone’?”
“He took Tomas and left this morning. He said they’d be gone two weeks.”
“Where’d they go?”
“I have no idea. He wouldn’t tell me.”
His jaw went tight. “Try harder.”
“I’m telling you the truth!” she cried. “I don’t have a clue where they went.”
A small silence built, then he spoke again. “Well, he’ll come back sooner or later. It’d be best to have our plans in place regardless. You’ve got two days.”
“But I need more time to make a decision like this! You can’t possibly do anything that quickly anyway.”
He slowly came back to where she waited. Her heart thrummed in response, every resource she had telling her to flee the danger he represented. She told herself she was being silly, but she thought that she could actually feel his energy as he drew near. He seemed to vibrate with an intensity that was barely contained.
“I can do anything I want to and I can do it at any time.” His voice was low and strangely pleasant. “You wouldn’t see me, you wouldn’t hear me, you wouldn’t have a clue that I had even been there. I’ll leave a body behind and that’s the only way you’ll know I was there.”
He lifted her chin with his thumb, forcing her to look at his face. An icy paralysis kept her from moving.
“There are probably worse things you could do than underestimate me, but I wouldn’t suggest you try it. You’ll end up very unhappy, I promise.”
She blinked then bluffed. “I’m living in hell right now. There’s nothing you could do to me to make my life any worse.”
“Are you sure of that?”
She opened her mouth to say yes then thought again.
Reading her hesitation as if she’d spoken it, he smiled coldly. “You look like a smart woman. Make the right decision and you’ll stay alive as well.”
He dropped his fingers and walked out the front door.
An hour later, despite Portia’s tea and explanations, Julia was still trembling. They’d covered everything, including Miguel’s disappearance with Tomas, but the conversation kept returning to Jonathan Cruz.
“I had to help him, Julia, please understand. He didn’t give me a choice in the matter.”
They were outdoors on Portia’s patio. Aided by the warm sun overhead and the carefully cultivated serenity of the garden, the older woman had recovered her composure, but Julia wasn’t sure she would ever regain hers. Hearing her teacup rattle against its saucer, she made a sound of disgust and put the china down on the table before her. After all Miguel had put Julia though, she would have thought she could have handled the situation better. She was shocked at how deeply Jonathan Cruz had managed to upset her.
Portia reached over and took Julia’s cold fingers. “Please don’t be angry with me.”
“Oh, Portia, I could never be angry with you.” Julia squeezed her friend’s fingers before letting them go. “I’m just confused and scared. Who is Jonathan Cruz? Could Meredith have really sent him here to kill Miguel?”
“He told you more than he told me, sweetheart. I know nothing else.”
Portia’s voice trembled and Julia said in sympathy, “He used you to get to me. I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” she said. “And I didn’t mind because I love you and want the best for you.” Her blue eyes turned brighter in the sunshine. “Face the truth, Julia. With this man’s assistance, you might be able to leave.”
In Portia’s voice, Julia heard the hope the older woman no longer had for herself. She and her husband had come to San Isidro as part of a mission over thirty years before. When her husband had passed away two years ago, she’d gone back to London, but a month later, she’d returned to Colombia saying London was too cold and rainy. But Julia had understood the real reason. There was nothing in the U.K. for her anymore. The village had become her home; she could live here cheaply and her friends were nearby.
Her fear combining with her frustration, she pushed her chair back and stood. The muffled sound of a passing delivery truck slipped over the garden wall. When the noise died, Julia spoke flatly. “I don’t like him,” she said. “There’s something about Jonathan Cruz that’s not right.”
“But he can help you.”
“I could be better off on my own. Something tells me his aid will be costly.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure,” Julia said thoughtfully. “I just have the gut feeling that there’s more going on here than I know about.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to try to call your friend?”
“It’s just too risky. He said the phones could be bugged and he’s right.” Meredith might have developed skills and met killers at the CIA, but Julia was afraid her friend had no idea what she was getting into when she crossed Miguel. Julia couldn’t warn her, either, or the danger would increase for both of them. “I know they’re wired at home. I’m going to have to decide what to do on my own.”
“You’ll make the right choice.”
Julia wished she shared Portia’s confidence. “What if it’s a trap? What if he isn’t who he says he is? What if I trust him then something goes wrong?”
“You’re not asking yourself the real question.” Portia stood then rested her hands on the back of her chair, her silver hair shining in the bright light.
“And that is?”
“What if you don’t trust him and he proves to be your only hope?”
RETURNING TO the ratty hotel on the edge of town where he was staying, Cruz found a coded message waiting for him. Translating the note from Meredith, he cursed. Ramirez was moving faster than they’d anticipated, arranging meetings and setting plans, all in preparation to eliminate his competitors. Ramirez’s trip had to be a part of that, but if it was, why had he taken the kid? Dammit! The window of opportunity was narrowing fast and complications like this didn’t help things. How could he put his plan into motion if he didn’t even know where in the hell Ramirez was?
Throwing his backpack to the bed, he retrieved the expensive electronics he’d hidden before he’d left. He hadn’t lied to Julia about the listening devices he’d discovered. The house itself had not been bugged but he’d found several wiretaps. He’d left them in place and added his equipment to the mix. Portia’s house had been clean, though. It’d been a simple thing to hide his devices the first time he’d been there.
He grabbed his earphones and adjusted the volumes. The recorded voices of the older woman and of Julia were so clear, he felt as if he were still standing in the room with them.
He listened to the entire conversation, then let it play again. When it finished the second time, he ripped off his headphones, his uneasiness growing. It didn’t bother him that Julia Vandamme didn’t care for him, but he was in trouble if she hadn’t bought the story that Meredith had hired him. Without her cooperation he could get the task done, but with it, things would go much smoother. The lives of too many good men rested on Cruz’s shoulders for him to ignore the urgency that was building.
He walked to the window to stare outside, his thoughts returning to Julia Vandamme. Because he’d been watching her through the binoculars for a couple of days, he’d known what to expect